27. Vulnerable

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Rey runs into trouble while scouting a route for a slave rescue

The forest is alive with sound.

The staccato call of two long-necked birds, flitting from tree to tree. The chirping of insects, rising and falling in a kind of song. The rustling of animals as they scurry by, foraging for food.

Rey stalks through the woods, the earth crunching under her boots, moist soil covered by a bed of dead leaves, twigs, rocks, and all manner of flora.

Her eyes are sharp and observant, taking in the sights and sounds, both enjoying them and assessing them, filtering everything she sees through a checklist in her mind.

It's thick here. The trees are full and close together, the ground covered with brush and vines.

It's not ideal.

On the one hand, they'll have more cover. On the other, it will slow them down, make it easier for the slavers to catch up to them and more likely that someone will get lost.

The target for this rescue is fifty, more if they can. Fifty people, tired and underfed, trekking through the forest at first light. They'll be scared, on edge, moving through unfamiliar surroundings.

It would be better if there more space between trees, less brush to push through. They'd move more quickly and in a larger pack, reduce the chance of someone getting separated.

Rey can only hope that someone else finds a thinner area of the forest, anything more open than this. She's got four other scouts out here. Surely one of them will find a better route.

But she can't count on it. For all she knows, this is the thinnest area of the forest. She needs to keep her focus, keep imagining the escape in her mind, what they'd need to watch out for.

She reaches for the navigational device in her pouch, checking the distance to their rendezvous point.

Three and quarter miles to go. Close to halfway.

She looks up and around as she tucks the device back in the pouch, searching for a distinctive marker or any sign that this part of the forest is different than where she started.

But there's nothing.

It seems like the same mass of trees, so high and thick with verdure they blot out most of the sky, the light trickling through only in thin streams.

Rey sighs and returns her gaze forward, brushing past a layer of vines hanging from a branch above. Suddenly, she starts to slow, squinting.

She can't tell for sure, but it seems to get brighter not far ahead. Much brighter, as if the forest abruptly ends. Maybe it opens into a field…?

She picks up her pace, brushing away greenery as she weaves between the trees, her pulse quickening in anticipation. She hops over a log, eyes trained forward, eager to make out what she's seeing.

She slows as she gets closer, her heart sinking as the view gradually comes into focus.

That's an open space alright. But it's no field.

It's a ravine.

Her pace tapers to a trudge as she approaches the edge of an abrupt drop, at least thirty feet deep. She halts, sighing heavily as she takes in the scene.

The ravine is wide, so wide that even the tallest tree in the forest couldn't bridge the gap. It stretches on indefinitely to the left and to the mountain on the right. It's covered in green, vines crawling up the steep sides, curling around roots jutting out of the earth. Under any other circumstance, she might think it was beautiful.

But right now, it's death knell.

No.

This won't work.

They can't take the rescues this way. In fact, depending on how far the ravine goes, they might just have to rethink their whole strategy for this one…

Rey crosses her arms as she mulls over this unpleasant development. She lets out a puff of air, examining the ravine closely, reluctant to give up just yet.

If it's as long as it appears to be, perhaps there's a bridge somewhere. Then again, if there is, that's the first place the slavers will go when they realize a chunk of their property is missing. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if they have someone guarding the bridge, keeping an eye out for thieves and escapees.

She purses her lips, thinking.

What about the mountain?

She twists to the right.

It's not far, a little over mile by the looks of it. There could be a path along the side or even a tunnel. It's worth a look.

Rey turns away from the ravine, walking back into the forest a few feet, then changing direction. She stalks towards the mountain, tepidly hopeful she'll find a way to make this work.

And yet, she has a gut feeling this is a lost cause. Try as she might, she can't imagine a way through or around the mountain that wouldn't pose considerable danger to their rescues. They need a straight shot, something quick and less complicated.

She walks forward briskly but less purposefully than before, slowly accepting the reality of the situation, that it all depends on what the other scouts find. She begins to observe the forest more for its beauty than its potential as an escape route, noting all kinds of plants she's never seen before, many of them brilliant colors, a deep red, a bright yellow.

Before long her mind begins to drift, her surroundings fading to the background as her thoughts meander down a familiar path, almost involuntarily, like on autopilot.

She just can't stop thinking about it. She can hardly pass an idle minute without going back to it, running through the scenes in her mind.

There's still so much to process.

They'd talked for hours. Hours. Though the night and into the morning, only stopping because both of them could hardly keep their eyes open. They cried together, laughed together, worried together. They shared stories, fears, hopes, dreams.

Rey pictures the woman's face in her mind, her bright eyes, that crinkle just under them, her features animated with emotion, sometimes soft and sad, other times sharp and focused.

It's strange to think that it wasn't too long ago that Rey thought of her as "the General."

Now, she's Leia. She's not some tall, imposing figure but a human being, just as fragile and vulnerable as she is resilient and strong.

Rey was surprised to find out exactly how human Leia really is. The woman always seems like steel in public, so confident and decisive, like she's never second-guessed herself a day in her life.

But, of course, she has.

Leia doubts. She worries. She feels just as lost and lonely as Rey does sometimes, disconnected from everyone around her by lifetime of extremes— legendary victories offset by the darkest tragedies. She defeated the Empire but lost her home. She created a new order only to watch her son rip it all to shreds.

And she carries it all alone, pondering it secretly in her heart.

Leia needed this. She needed it just as much as Rey did, maybe more so. She needed to connect with someone she can't hide from, someone who has an inkling of what it's like to hope even in the most desperate situations, to love even through the bitterest differences.

At this, the conversation replays in Rey's mind, the one she keeps going back to. Out of hours upon hours of revelation, encouragement, and advice, this is what she remembers the most, the thing that lingers.

"Do you think it's wrong?" Rey had asked tentatively. "To love him? To just want to be with him, in spite of everything?" She tensed, bracing herself for an answer she didn't want to hear.

But Leia surprised her.

"Rey…" She'd scoffed softly, leaning in closer. "I've spent a lifetime loving people I deeply disagree with on both a personal and ideological level. It's not wrong." She shook her head firmly. "You can't help who you love. And you can't help but be drawn to the ones you love, to want be with them even when there's so much that divides you. In fact…" She leaned back as her voice trailed off, her eyes growing dark with thought.

"Sometimes I wonder…" She mused. "I wonder if opposites attract for a reason. Maybe it's the universe's way of finding balance."

"What do you mean?" Rey asked eagerly.

Leia didn't answer straight away but instead looked to the floor, mulling over the question. When she finally spoke, her voice was distant, her gaze soft and faraway.

"It's the easiest thing, you know." She tilted her head back. "To see the opposing side as the villain, as something so wrong it's beyond comprehension why anyone would ever think that way. And when you see people like that, you don't engage with them. Why would you? Even just talking to them, entertaining their ideas, feels like a violation of your values. But…" Leia looked at Rey as she articulated the word.

"When you add love to the equation, things are different. You're willing to listen. You're willing to consider the other's perspective, to try to understand why they believe what they believe, why they do what they do. And then, as time passes, as the love grows, what once seemed just wrong looks more… complex." Leia chose the word carefully, drawing it out. Then she smiled to herself. "That's when you really start to change."

Rey remembers how her heart fluttered at this, how it seemed to be exactly the answer she was looking for, what she needed to hear more than anything.

But then Leia abruptly sat up, reacting to Rey's emotions, her eyes wide and urgent.

"That's not to say love can mend all differences," she added hastily. "I'm sorry to tell you that it can't." She shook her head. "Sometimes people don't change. And there are some divisions that are truly irreconcilable." She leaned in close, her gaze kind but with an undertone of pain.

"Rey," she started gently. "I'm sure you know how I happy I've been to hear what you've told me today. I-" Her voice suddenly broke. "I haven't felt this kind of hope in a long time." She couldn't contain her smile as she spoke, her eyes glistening with tears. But in the next instant her face fell, suddenly growing solemn. "But based on everything I've heard, it's important that you…" She gulped. "And I… prepare for the possibility that things may not turn out the way we want them to."

Rey's heart drops at the memory of Leia's warning, the uncomfortable truth hitting her just as heavily now as it did then. She absently brushes past the vines in front of her, feeling that tension well inside, an agonizing frustration that's all too familiar.

She'd thought for sure that talking with Leia would help her see things more clearly. And it did, in some respects. Yet she still feels hopelessly unclear on the one thing she wants to know more than anything.

How is she supposed to handle this mess?

She can't control how she feels. She wants him so badly, more and more every time she sees him. But how can she give into her desire when he still expects her to be something she's not? How can she let herself be vulnerable with him when he's still the Supreme Leader of the First Order?

Even Leia didn't have answers to these questions.

"I can't tell you what to do, Rey." She'd shook her head firmly. "To be honest, I'm not even sure there's a right thing to do, at least not in an objective sense. But I can give you some perspective."

"So, what would you do?" Rey leaned forward intently. "In a situation like this?" Leia sighed as she looked up to the ceiling.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "I hope…" she tilted her head, "that I'd be open to listening, to seeking a middle ground. But I also hope that I wouldn't compromise my core values, that I'd stand firm on the things that matter most. And regardless of what choice I made, whether I gave into my feelings or not, I hope I'd be honest with myself about why I made that choice." At this, Leia glanced at Rey, narrowing her eyes.

"What?" Rey asked defensively. Leia pursed her lips.

"I think…" She began cautiously, "that you have very good reason for being wary of this relationship. But I also think, maybe…" She paused as if considering whether or not to continue. "That there's another reason you're not giving in to what you feel, perhaps a reason you're not entirely aware of…?" She raised an eyebrow. Rey looked back, guarded, but said nothing.

"Tell me," Leia continued with a steady gaze. "Is this your first time being in love?" Rey answered with a short nod. Leia nodded back in response, then clasped her hands in her lap. "Is it like you thought it would be?"

At this, Rey looked away, suddenly finding it difficult to maintain eye contact.

"It's…" She gulped. "Different. More complicated, I guess."

"How?" Leia probed.

"It's just…" Rey struggled to find the right words. "I never realized… I didn't expect…" She tensed, her gaze still fixed on the floor. "It would scare me," she finished in a low voice.

"Why does it scare you?" Leia asked quietly.

"Because." Rey abruptly snapped her head up. "I never thought I'd fall in love with the Supreme Leader of the First Order."

"And if he weren't the Supreme Leader," Leia responded without skipping a beat. "If he were just an average person, you wouldn't feel this way, you wouldn't feel scared?" Rey looked away again.

"I…" She squirmed. "I'm not sure."

"Can you," Leia asked tentatively, "think of a reason why you might be?" Rey shrugged.

"I don't know," she mumbled. "I guess… I guess maybe… I'd still worry…" She let her voice trail off, unsure how to finish. Leia waited patiently, never pushing her once. "I might still worry about getting hurt," she finally whispered.

"Rey." She looked up and was met by dark eyes brimming with compassion.

"I've been around for a few years now," Leia started with a wry smile. "And I've been in love more than once. I'm sorry to tell you… I got hurt every time. In fact, I don't know a single person who's fallen in love and not gotten hurt. Even in the strongest relationships I know, people still get hurt sometimes. It's just part of being in love." Rey's heart sunk as she heard this.

"But that's not the only part." Leia leaned in closer, eyes bright with intensity. "The thing that makes love so scary, that causes you to get hurt, is the exact same thing that makes love so precious, that bonds people together in the most meaningful way imaginable."

"What thing?" Rey whispered.

"Opening your heart," Leia answered. "Letting yourself be utterly vulnerable, more vulnerable than you'll ever be." Rey gulped, surprised to feel tears pushing at the backs of her eyes.

"Rey," Leia said her name tenderly, lifting a hand to her face. "I don't know if it's right for you to give in to what you feel for my son. But I do know that you shouldn't let fear make your choice for you." At this, a few tears escaped down Rey's cheeks. "Being in love is a wonderful thing," Leia beamed. "And I want you to experience it one day, all of it, whether it's with my son or someone else."

As these words echo in Rey's mind, she starts to slow without realizing it, soon halting outright, standing silently in the middle of the forest. She looks down, but doesn't really see the ground below. She's lost in her thoughts, the memory of Leia's hand on her cheek, the strength of her emotions as she spoke— her confidence, her compassion, her hope.

Rey lets herself linger there, linger in that moment and everything it made her feel. Warm. Connected. Terrified. Ashamed. Uncertain.

As she does, she can't stop the thought from crossing her mind.

Sometimes she misses her life on Jakku.

She never thought in a million years she'd ever think such a thing. She was so lonely there. So desperate for companionship, for love. All she ever wanted was to belong with someone.

But she never realized what that would feel like, all the complicated emotions, how hard it would be.

Lately, she's imagined going back in time, coming face to face with her former self so she can urge her to enjoy her simple life while she can, embrace the monotony, the boredom, the comforting regularity.

Get up. Scavenge. Trade. Eat. Imagine. Sleep. Do it all again the next day.

No galactic wars to worry about. No Force. No bond. No Ben. No grand destiny looming vaguely overhead. Just survival, pure and simple.

Those were the days…

Rey sighs and takes a step forward, her focus slowly returning to her surroundings, the forest, the trees, the vines, the brush at her feet. She looks up and around, trying to concentrate on the physical world, keep herself from withdrawing into her mind, into incessantly analyzing the complex problems that have taken over her life.

She notices the forest seems darker now. She looks up to the sky but sees little beyond the canopy of green overhead.

Hopefully, it's just a few thick clouds and not a storm brewing. The storms here aren't as bad as they are on Dorajan, but they can get pretty nasty. Worse comes to worst, she'll hide somewhere in the mountain until it passes.

Rey picks up her pace, weaving around trees and stepping over thick logs rotting on the forest floor. She moves quickly, taking in the sights and sounds.

This forest is loud, in more ways than one. It's not just all the birds and insects and small animals constantly making noise but the visual overload, a variety of flora absolutely everywhere, all over the ground, growing on trees, hanging from branches. Most of it's green, but a lot of it's brilliantly colored, bright hues she never knew existed in nature.

There's a long, red flower shaped like a bell she keeps seeing on some of the vines. Then there are small clusters of yellow plants made of tiny, heart-shaped petals all over the ground. Then there's—

Whoa.

Rey suddenly slows, her eyes fixed on the bottom of a knotted tree just ahead.

Now that is something she's never seen before. It almost doesn't look real…

Rey approaches curiously, transfixed by the strange mass nestled next to a large tree root.

It's a flower, maybe? Or a bush?

Whatever it is, it's blue, a dark blue that seems to shimmer, creating a glossy haze all around it, obscuring the details of the plant. Rey can't even make out its shape until she kneels just in front it.

She'd call it a flower but only because she doesn't know how else to describe it. It's dense with small petals tightly arranged in circular patterns the size of her fist. The stems are short, only rising a few inches from the ground, each one harboring five or six circles, bunched tightly together with what looks like small, red berries in the middle. There are about eight clusters, though it's difficult to say for sure. The shimmering makes the petals seem to blend together, leaving only the berries with a clear, individual shape.

Rey lifts a hand, extending it slowly. She reaches for the blue mass, half expecting her fingers to fall right through to the ground as if it were only a holo. But no, her skin brushes against the foliage, smooth and firmer than she anticipated. She grazes the clusters lightly, moving from one circular pattern to another, feeling to cool kiss of the petals against her skin.

Finally, her fingers drift to a trio of red berries bunched in the middle of one of the clusters. She barely touches one before she hears a soft pop.

Rey jumps a bit, startled. The berry disappears before her eyes, leaving nothing but a thin, yellow mist wafting to the sky. She breathes it in, surprised to find a bitter undertone to the sweet smell.

Pop!

Now the second berry dissolves, releasing that same yellow mist with a bittersweet scent.

Pop!

Now the third berry dissolves, a small, yellow cloud beginning to form a few inches above the flower. Rey watches curiously, searching for any trace of the red berries. But there's nothing, as if they were never there at all.

Pop!

Rey's head jerks to the right to find yellow mist drifting up from two berries at the center of another cluster.

Pop! Pop!

The two berries disappear simultaneously and Rey instantly rises from her crouched position, starting to back away.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

More berries dissolve, creating an increasingly thicker cloud of yellow mist in their wake.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

Rey continues to walk backwards, both startled and entranced, as every berry on the plant self-destructs, the yellow mist blending with the shimmer of the petals. Once she feels like she's a safe distance, she stops, watching the mist gradually dissipate.

She steps to the side, following a vague instinct to get some distance from the strange, blue mass. Once she's a few meters away, she turns, refocusing her attention on her destination. She glances up at the sky, trying to make out any storm clouds above, but she can't see much through all the green.

Rey picks up her pace as she stalks forward, determined not to let herself get distracted. She brushes away a thick layer of vines and hops over a large log but nearly loses her balance when she lands, her right arm shooting out to steady herself on a tree.

She stands still for a moment, regaining equilibrium, then continues on a little more carefully, focusing on each step. As she waves past branches heavy with vines, she notices the forest start to change. It's subtle at first but grows, the slightest shimmer, a glossy haze over everything. Colors and shapes begin to bleed in to one another, trees and vines squirming as if they were alive.

Rey becomes confused, her heartbeat quickening. She tries to focus on something, anything—a flower, a leaf, the root of a tree— but she can't seem to make out any individual shapes. She squeezes her eyes shut and opens them again, hoping to clear her vision but instead it only gets worse.

It's not just her sight. The sounds all around her seem to be getting louder, the call of birds, once musical and faraway, like screeches right next to her ear. The rising and falling hum of insects sounds more like a roar, a constant droning in the air. She lunges forward but promptly trips, her palms flying out to catch her as she crashes to the ground.

What is going on?

Then the realization hits.

Uh oh.

Is she… poisoned?

She trembles, pushing up from the earth, fumbling for her pouch.

She needs to call for help. Now.

Suddenly, a flock of birds flies out of a tree overhead, an explosion of flapping and shrieking. Rey instantly whips her hands to her ears. She presses her palms into the sides of her head, trying to dull the sound, but it's no use. The cacophony just gets louder, somehow piercing inside her mind.

Without thinking, she bursts forward, racing at full speed as though she could somehow outrun the ear-splitting assault. Her hands still cover her ears she runs through a shimmering mass rushing by like stars at lightspeed. She feels sharp edges scratch her arms and face as she flies through the forest, barely feeling her feet just under her.

Suddenly, she trips and finds her body flung helplessly down a slope. She tumbles for what feels like forever before she finally rolls to a stop, bruised and trembling.

She gasps for air but can only manage short, shallow breaths. She hoists herself up to her knees and starts desperately patting her body, feeling for her pouch.

But there's nothing.

She looks up and around, trying to search for it, but she's immediately hit by a wave of nausea, everything shimmering in a bleeding mass of color.

In the next instant, a shrieking explosion of sound splits through her skull, and she whips her hands to her ears, dropping to the ground.

A minute later, she collapses, curling into a ball, pulling her legs into her chest. Shimmering colors dance in waves all around her, creating the sensation of movement, like she's on water. She grows more and more queasy, a metallic taste creeping into her throat. She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to focus on her breath, counting every sharp, labored inhale.

One.

She sucks in a breath.

Two.

She does it again.

Three.

She keeps going like this until she feels still, on solid ground. She keeps her eyes closed, limiting the sensory overload to just sound, the thunderous roar of millions of insects droning inside her head, accented by screeching and thrashing. She can't quite feel her face, but she's sure she's crying, tears streaming down her cheeks. She tightens her arms around her legs and tries to focus on something, anything, other than the ear-splitting agony.

It goes on forever. She lies there forever, curled in a tight ball, crying softly.

Then, out of nowhere, the roar abates, not disappearing but withdrawing from her mind, receding to the background. She feels something grip her shoulder and roll her over.

"Rey!" A disembodied voice calls out her name.

"Rey!" She opens her eyes, squinting. A vague form hovers above her, a rippling, black outline.

"Rey, what's going on?!" That sounds like Ben's voice. Or a phantom of Ben's voice. Maybe she's hallucinating…

"Rey, talk to me. What's wrong?" A tannish blob that looks like a face descends towards her. Two dark holes peer at her from above as something warm covers her cheeks. Rey tries to part her lips, to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth so she can speak.

"Are you real?" She finally manages to ask.

"Yes, I'm real!" That's definitely Ben's voice. It's got that distinctive tone, an angry kind of concern.

Rey releases her legs, letting them fall to the side. She blinks a few times, the tannish blob gradually taking on Ben's features.

"I-" She tries to concentrate on his face, ignore the dizzying shimmer of colors all around. "I think I'm poisoned."

"By what?" He backs away for a moment, the warmth at her cheeks disappearing, then descends again, resting a palm on her forehead, feeling her temperature.

"A flower." She can make out his eyes now, dark with concern. "A blue flower. It had red berries…"

"Did it seem hazy, not real, like a holo?" He strokes back her hair.

"It shimmered. Now everything shimmers. And it's so loud, so, so loud…" She cringes, shaking her head. The concern in his eyes softens, like he's relieved.

"You're not poisoned." He pulls away, his outline wavy, blending with the colors all around. "You're drugged."

"How do you know?" She squints at him, starting to feel nauseous again, like she's bobbing on water.

"Because I know that plant. The First Order uses a derivative of it for interrogation."

Rey immediately groans.

"Of course you do." She rolls onto her side, closing her eyes and drawing her knees back into her chest.

"It's not harmful." She focuses on his voice just above. "It only affects the mind. It'll wear off. How many berries did you breathe in?"

"I'm not sure," she mumbles. "Three to four, I think. Maybe more."

"Could be worse," he responds. "It probably won't last more than six hours."

"SIX HOURS!?" Rey immediately slaps her hands over her ears, cringing at the shriek of her own voice.

"Rey." She feels his hand on her forehead again, stroking back her hair. "It won't be like this the whole time. The drug has two phases. The first will wear off in about an hour, then you'll feel more relaxed. It's why we use it for interrogation. It terrifies, then makes people compliant, loose-lipped. How long has it been since you breathed it in?"

"Forever."

He grunts.

"It only feels that way," he assures gently, still stroking her hair. "But it will end. You just have to get through this first part." She whimpers.

"It's ok." His voice is soothing, descending closer to her ear. It's the only thing that sounds normal, that doesn't seem to roar. "You're alright. You just need to get somewhere safe and wait it out." He shifts her, rolling her on her back then reaching under her body. She starts to rise, becoming weightless, but the moment she does, her stomach flips and a metallic taste shoots up her throat. She gags, holding back vomit.

"Stop," she barely manages to whisper. "Please stop." She feels the earth beneath her again. "I don't want to move. I want to be still."

"So, you're just going to stay here?" He slips his arms out from under her.

"Yes." She rolls onto her side, curling into a ball.

"In the middle of nowhere?"

"Yes."

"For six hours?"

"Yes."

She tenses, squeezing her legs tightly as the roar of insects rises in the absence of his voice.

"Those look like storm clouds overhead." She relaxes when she hears him, trying to concentrate on him and only him.

"Are you going to lay out in the rain?"

"Wouldn't be the first time." She scrunches her face, eyes still squeezed shut.

"Even if it's a thunderstorm?"

She immediately hisses, in pain just at the idea of being in a storm right now. If birds and bugs are this loud, she can't even imagine what lightening would sound like…

"Rey." He draws out her name. "You can't be out in a thunderstorm, especially not like this."

She whimpers, the prospect of being in motion no better than the prospect of being in a storm.

"Is there no one you can call for help?"

"I lost my pouch," she mumbles, her face buried in her knees.

"Close by?"

"Yes, I think." Rey winces at a sudden eruption of shrieking birds.

"I'll be right back." She hears him start to rise.

"No!" She instantly rolls over, pushing up to her hands and knees and crawling towards him, or at least where she thinks he is.

"Don't go," she pleads, patting the ground, searching for him. She touches something warm, maybe his knee or his thigh. "Please, don't go." Whatever it is, she rests her forehead on it, wrapping her arms around the warmth. "Please don't leave me." She clings to him. "It's better when you're here, not so loud. Maybe it's the bond, or something. Just don't go."

"Shhhhhh." His voice rolls in like a gentle wave. He strokes her back, a hand resting lightly on her head. "I'm not going to leave you." She holds in her breath, focusing on his thumb caressing her hair. "But you can't stay here. The storm's going to start any minute now. You either need to call for help or let me take you somewhere safe."

"I don't want to move." She shakes her head, her forehead brushing against his thigh.

"Then I need to find your pouch."

"Don't go." She tightens her hold on him.

"Rey." His voice is gentle but with an undertone of warning. "You have to move. I'm going to pick you up now, ok?"

"No." She shakes her head again. He slips his hand from her head and grips one of her arms wrapped around his leg.

"I'm sorry, but you have to. Come on."

"No." She resists him.

"Rey."

Suddenly, a skull-splitting crack rips through her ears, and she could wear she feels them start to bleed. She gasps, releasing Ben and whipping her hands to her head, fully expecting to feel sticky liquid running along her cheeks.

"Time to go." He shifts, moving beside her.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no." She squeezes her eyes shut, covering her ears with her palms.

"Yes." His hands curl around her wrists, pulling them away from her head. "I need you to hold on to me and focus on the sound of my heartbeat. Can you do that?"

She moans, reluctant but resigned to the necessity of this. He grips her gently, pulling her upright and drawing her into his chest, her ear close to his heart.

"Do you hear that?" She melts into his warmth, keeping her eyes closed, trying to block out everything but the steady rhythm she hears inside him. After a moment, she nods.

"Good. Now focus on that and nothing else." He shifts her up and she wraps an arm around his neck, hardening her core in anticipation. She sucks in a breath when she feels herself rise, gritting her teeth as a wave of nausea hits.

They start into motion and Rey's stomach flips, that metallic taste creeping in again. She grips folds of fabric as his chest, burying her face in his shoulder, focusing on him, his life force, trying to keep the nausea at bay. They bob up and down, but she just concentrates on that steady rhythm, sensing it more than she actually hears it.

Suddenly, a skull-splitting crack breaks her focus and she cringes, whimpering.

"It's alright." She feels his voice resonate in his chest. "You're alright."

He moves quickly but time crawls, every second a labor of discomfort, nausea churning in her belly, a constant assault of sound at her ears, the lightening worst of all. Every time it cracks, she feels like her head is that much closer to exploding, a searing pain that rages and throbs, pushing violently against the confines of her skull.

Her only comfort is him— his warmth, his heartbeat, his voice, low and soothing. She clings to him like she's holding on for dear life, like if she let go she'd just fly away, whipped up into the brewing storm.

She twitches when she feels a drop of liquid land on her cheek and trickle down her neck. Soon, it's joined by another, then another, then another.

Drip, drip, drip, drip.

It seems like she hears each raindrop, sometimes a splat, other times a blip, sometimes a dull tap.

Drip, drip, drip, drip.

They're slow at first— one here, another there— but they gradually pick up, individual drops merging into a chorus.

Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip.

CRACK!

All at once, the chorus crescendos into a roar, ten times louder than the roar of the insects, pounding, pounding, pounding relentlessly. She grips Ben even tighter.

"You're alright." The roar recedes every time she hears his voice. "Hold on. Just a little longer."

She nods weakly, her face still buried in his shoulder.

As the rain continues to pound, she starts to feel heavy, soaked through with liquid, weighing her down. She's not sure how Ben's still carrying her. She must be a thousand kilos, absorbing every drop that hits her skin, filling her up with more and more weight.

Suddenly, she dips down, her stomach flipping in response, and all at once, the roar changes, taking on the quality of an echo, more expansive, reverberating. She no longer feels the relentless downpour on her skin. Instead, it's soft and tender, sensitive to the cool air. She shivers and turns her face outward, cracking her eyes open ever so slightly.

An earthy wall, vibrant and squirming, rushes up, overhead, and behind, creating a spinning sensation, like she's in an X-wing barrel rolling through the sky. She immediately heaves, squeezing her eyes shut.

Horrible idea. Horrible, horrible idea…

She determines to keep her eyes closed at all costs as she feels her body descend, laid gently on solid ground, warm arms sliding out from under her. She rolls to her side, curling into a ball, drawing her legs into her chest. She shivers a bit, slowly adjusting to the temperature, the roar filling the expansive space, a dome of sound droning all around.

CRACK!

Rey flinches, whipping her palms to her ears, crying softly.

It's the worst pain she's ever felt, the way the lightening rips through her skull, seeming to take pieces of her with it. The roar of the rain is welcome by comparison, constant, predictable, something she can manage.

But the lightening?

It comes out of nowhere, a surprise attack she can't anticipate, and she waits in dread for it, wincing sometimes just when she thinks it might hit. She presses her palms into her ears, trying to armor herself against it, but it's no use. Nothing stops it, nothing dulls it, nothing makes it better.

Where is Ben?

"Ben…?" She whimpers.

"I'm here." His voice is far away at first, but gets closer. "It's ok. You're ok." She feels a warm hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to move you upright. Are you ready?"

She nods weakly.

He slips his hands just under her arms, guiding her up slowly. Then he shifts, settling on the ground and pulling her back into a cocoon of warmth. She slides her palms from her ears and he wraps his arms around her.

She stops shivering, withdrawing into the comfort of him, the roar dying away just a little as she does.

CRACK!

She jumps, letting out a small cry.

"Shhhh." He tightens his hold, his lips just next to her ear. "It's alright. You're alright. Just hold on. This will part be over soon."

She nods, concentrating on his voice, trying to believe him, but all the while feeling weak and desperate, certain that this will never end, that she'll be like this forever.

"You're going to make it through this, Rey," he tells her, like he read her mind. "Plenty of people have. Some even do it intentionally." She tries to scoff, but it comes out more like a gasp.

"Why would anyone do this on purpose?"

"For recreation," he answers. "Or religious reasons."

"Idiots," she mutters under her breath.

CRACK!

Rey hisses and jerks, then goes limp, her shoulders heaving lightly as fresh tears stream down her cheeks.

"I can't do this," she weeps, shaking her head. "I just can't…"

"Yes, you can," he whispers. "You're strong. You're a survivor. You've made it through worse than this." She whimpers, squeezing her eyes shut. "Shhhh." He rocks her gently. "You'll make it through. I'll help you. What can I do?"

"J-just talk to me," she stammers.

"About what?"

"Anything," she answers breathlessly. "I don't care. Tell me about the idiots who do this on purpose."

"Ok." He rubs her arms as he pauses for a few moments. "Have you heard of the Narqois?"

Rey shakes her head.

"They're a sentient species, tree-dwellers." She takes a slow inhale, focusing on him. "Their home world is Narq, in the Colonies. It's where the plant originates from."

"What's it called?" She tenses, sure another crack of lightening will hit any second now.

"It goes by several names." She concentrates on his voice. "I can't pronounce the word in the native language, but in Basic it's called shadow moss. It gets the name from its appearance, how it doesn't look real, like it's just a reflection of something else."

"That's what I thought, at first," she murmurs.

"The Narqois revere it as a gift from their ancestral gods." She begins to relax as he continues. "They believe it was sent to them as a means to commune with the natural world." Rey lets out a weak half-laugh.

"By commune, do they mean be assaulted by?"

"In a way, yes." He shifts slightly. "The idea is that it heightens your experience of nature, all of it— the violence, the harshness, but also the peace, the calm. This will get better, Rey." His lips descend to her ear. "I promise you. The second phase is much easier, pleasant even. People who do this for recreation endure the first part just to get there."

"Why? What's so good about it?"

"A lot of different things." He straightens again. "Depends on your perspective. Some say it's just relaxing, the absence of all worry and fear. Others say they feel like they're outside themselves, seeing their life from afar. Some even claim they achieve a higher state of being, a god-like ability to reflect beyond the normal bounds of consciousness."

"Sounds… interesting." Rey squirms a bit. "But not worth all this."

CRACK!

Rey jumps at the sound of lightening, but is surprised to find it's not quite as painful as it once was, less skull-splitting, more distant.

"So, have you ever done this before?" She relaxes against him, taking a deep breath.

"Once," he replies, his tone guarded.

"On purpose?"

He sighs, then says nothing. A few seconds pass.

"Not exactly," he finally answers.

"What does that mean?" She knits her eyebrows.

"It means…" He starts slowly. "That I didn't know what it was at the time. Snoke told me it would show me who I was, so I took it. Then he dropped me in a war zone." Rey instantly gasps.

"That's terrible."

"I survived," he says dryly. "It wasn't easy, though. The effects are worse for Force sensitives. They sense more so they feel more. It makes it hard to control Force power, to detect things you normally would."

"I've noticed," she groans. Then she tilts her head, suddenly realizing something. "Actually, this was the first time I didn't feel the bond before it happened." He grunts, but doesn't comment.

The rain continues to roar, but it's less deafening than it was. Rey lets out a long exhale, noticing that she's starting to feel tingly, warm all over despite the fact that she's still wet from the rain.

"So, what was the second phase like for you?" She asks. He immediately stiffens.

"I don't remember," he answers curtly. She presses her lips together.

That was a lie.

Her Force senses may be overwhelmed, but she can still read him, feel that distinct internal grating. Under any other circumstance, she would challenge him about this, but she's too exhausted to attempt such a thing right now. Instead, she wonders what he might be hiding, what about his experience of the so-called 'pleasant phase' made him want to bury it.

Maybe it does grant one a greater ability to reflect. And maybe he came to some conclusions about his life he didn't like…

Rey mulls over this for a few minutes before it occurs to her that she's actually able to think now, not simply endure. The effects of the plant must be shifting, moving on. Maybe she can open her eyes?

She lifts her lids cautiously.

Her vision is blurry at first but soon sharpens. She's relieved to find she can make out individual shapes. There's still a slight shimmer over everything but no movement, no squirming objects or bleeding colors. She looks up and around, taking in the scene.

They're in cave, in the mountain presumably. She surprised to find it isn't as dark as she might expect, light pouring in from outside. Maybe the storm is starting to pass?

The ceiling is high, quite a few meters above, the earthy walls curving upward into a dome shape. There's some vegetation on the ground, but it's mostly dirt, clumpy and soft by the looks of it. The opening is large, rain spraying several feet inside, but they're far away from it, seated in the back of the cave. She notices a pile of black fabric not far away, Ben's coat probably. She glances down to see that his arms are bare.

"It's getting better, isn't it?" He interrupts her inspection. She nods a couple of times.

"I told you," he says smugly. "The change happens fast, in a matter of minutes. Now you just need to relax." He rubs her arms a couple of times before bringing a hand to her forehead, tilting her head back against him. "Sit back and relax," he whispers.

She does as he says, loosening her muscles, taking deep, intentional breaths.

A crack of lightening sounds outside and Rey jumps but is actually relieved to hear it, to confirm she perceives it at a normal volume. She sighs, grateful to have her eyes and ears back, and watches the rain as it begins to ease off, the heavy downpour slowing to light and steady stream.

The cave shimmers all around, a slight gloss over everything, not nauseating but actually quite beautiful. It's as though she can see gradients of texture and color she's never noticed before.

She leans against Ben, actually enjoying the sights and sounds, the weight of his arms wrapped around her. She feels so warm, strangely warm. It's partially him but there's something else too, a glow beneath her skin. It's so calming, so peaceful.

And it's not just her body.

Her mind is even, detached. There's something about it that reminds her of the memory walk, when Ben put her on a loop to figure out how she froze the slavers in the forest. She feels split, a double consciousness, one experiencing and one observing.

The observing half notices the change, how she feels more content than she has in a very long time. For once, her mind is not her enemy, constantly dogging her with fears and doubts, drawing her into a never-ending circle of self-analysis— questioning, challenging, shaming.

These past few months have been hard. She hasn't quite felt like herself. She was once so confident, so decisive. But lately, she feels like she can't even trust her own judgement. Everything's gotten so complicated…

She misses simplicity. She misses self-certainty. She misses quiet moments where she just sits and enjoys the present.

And she misses him.

Not just being with him but being with him like this.

It's been so long since they've just enjoyed one another's company.

It's her favorite thing about the bond when she thinks about it. Out of all the times it's brought them together, the best moments have been ones just like this, where they do something simple together, something so beautifully human.

Sit by a fire. Watch the rain. Play cards. Share things. Embrace.

She wishes the bond could be like that again. She wishes she could go back, before they ever knew they were in love, and just be together like this, without worrying about their conflicting expectations, everything that tears them apart even as they grow closer together.

"I miss this."

Rey stiffens, surprised at the sound of her own voice.

Did she just say that out loud?

"Miss what?" Ben shifts behind her.

Apparently, she did.

"I miss…" She gulps as her voice trails off. She lets out a breath, nice and slow, then closes her eyes for a moment, just feeling the warmth, his arms wrapped around her. "I miss when the bond used to be like this."

He doesn't say anything, but she senses his curiosity pique.

"I miss…" she continues, her voice distant, almost dreamy. "Moments like this. Simple moments. Just opportunities to be together, be at peace."

"You don't need the bond for that, Rey," he responds instantly, his lips descending to her ear. "You can have this whenever you want." His breath tickles strands of her hair.

"After I join the First Order, you mean," she says quietly. He lets out a heavy sigh, his chest rising and falling at her back. She sees him in her mind, his head rolling back against the cave wall, his dark eyes annoyed, frustrated.

But she feels calm, like water so still it reflects everything above it, the images crisp and clear.

"Rey…" He loosens his arms as he sits up a bit, an undertone of exasperation in his voice. "I don't care if you join the First Order. I mean…" He sputters. "I do. But I care about you more. I just want you. Don't you know that?" His arms tighten around her, his breath at her ear again.

"I do know that," she whispers. "And I just want you. But wanting each other doesn't make the conflict go away. It doesn't erase our differences, our expectations. Sometimes..." she sighs, sinking against him. "Sometimes it feels like nothing ever will. Sometimes it feels like we'll be like this forever— forever at odds, forever arguing, forever wanting the other to be something they're not, yet forever…" Her voice trails off as she gazes out of the cave opening, the rain barely visible now, just a glimmer in the forest. "Bonded."

The cave grows quiet, the only sound a light sprinkle, pitter pattering outside. Rey continues to watch, silent and still, her body warm, her mind at ease in spite of the tension. She tilts her head to the side, still resting against his chest.

"So what?" He abruptly breaks the silence.

She knits her eyebrows, confused by his tone, casually dismissive. She shifts to the side, twisting back to get a look at his face. He looks down at her, shrugging his shoulders.

"So what?" He repeats. "So what if we're always at odds? That doesn't mean we can't be together. Trust me. My parents did it for years. All they ever did was fight." Rey grunts, turning back towards the cave opening.

"So, what are you suggesting?" She asks wryly. "That we just forget everything else and be together?"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting," he answers matter-of-factly.

"Well, that's a sound basis for a relationship," she remarks with no small amount of sarcasm. "How would that even work?"

"We'll figure out." His tone is easy, nonchalant. She scoffs softly, half-amused, half disbelieving.

"Think about it, Rey," he goads, shifting back and brushing her hair to the side, exposing her neck. "We could have what we both want, right now." He kisses soft skin just behind to her ear. "We'll sort everything else out later. Just be with me. Forget about the First Order, the Resistance, forget about all of it and just be with me."

She closes her eyes, shaking her head at his foolishness, but her body melts, her skin tingles, as he continues to kiss her, soft lips travelling along the curve of her neck.

"Ben…" She sighs, her shoulders drooping. "I can't do that. We can't do that."

"Why not?" He whispers, wrapping his arms more tightly around her. "Wouldn't that be better than what we've been doing? What if this is what we're supposed to do? Just be together and let everything else fall into place?"

"I can't." Her voice breaks as she shakes her head. "I just can't."

"Why?" He nuzzles her neck.

"Because…" She starts weakly, her lips trembling, eyes welling with tears. "I'm afraid." She barley squeezes out the words.

"What are you afraid of?" His kisses travel to the soft skin behind her ear. Rey gulps as tears spill over her cheeks. She closes her eyes then opens them again, letting the tears fall freely.

"I-" She stammers. "I'm afraid you'll break my heart." He instantly freezes.

"Rey." He whispers her name in disbelief. He brings a hand to her face, caressing her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "How do you think I could ever do that?"

"B-by…" The tears continue to stream. "By not changing. Or not changing enough." He immediately drops his hand, his body slackening.

"You do realize…" She continues brokenly. "That if we do this, that's where it will end, don't you? For both of us." Her lips tremble. "We'll both end up heartbroken."

Ben remains behind her, silent and still. After a few seconds, he withdraws, his arms sliding from around her body, the warmth of his chest pulling away.

Rey pushes against the earth with her palms, scooting forward then leaning over to rest her forehead on her knees. She grips her ankles gently as she closes her eyes.

He feels crestfallen. Disheartened. Stricken with a deep, weary disappointment.

But she feels none of these things.

She should. She should feel just as hopeless and frustrated as he does.

But she's beyond that now. She's not sure how, but she is.

Instead she feels serene. Open. Accepting.

It's like her mind has drifted from her body, floating up to the heavens, ascending higher and higher until she can see it all stretched out before her, the path she must take, her destiny.

It's a strange sensation. Welcome but strange. She's gotten so used to feeling blind, consumed by conflicting emotions, at a loss to what she should do, how she should manage.

Now she's calm and certain, separated from the experience of the moment, watching everything from a bird's eye view.

It's so clear, so obvious. How could she have missed it? A part of her must have always known. Only now she can finally admit it, accept it.

It's going to hurt. It's going to hurt tremendously, worse than anything she's ever felt before. It'll hurt him too. They're both going to hurt.

They'll hurt. They'll yearn. They'll agonize. They'll mourn. They'll feel broken, betrayed, angry.

And they'll grow. They'll cherish. They'll admire. They'll care for each other. They'll open their hearts. They'll listen. They'll compromise. They'll strengthen.

They'll change.

This is it. This is how it has to happen. There's no other way.

She has to experience it all. They both do— the agony and the ecstasy.

Otherwise they can't get to where they need to be. Otherwise they can't achieve their destiny, the reason the bond exists, what the Force has in store for them.

It's time to let go.

Rey takes a deep breath, slow and purposeful, her lungs expanding gently. Then she lets it out, sending all of her fears and reservations with it.

She lifts her head from her knees, her hands slipping from her ankles as she straightens in her seated position. She gazes out of the cave for a moment, the world still glossed in a shimmering coat, soft and peaceful.

Then she shifts, turning around to face Ben.

He's sitting back against the cave wall, his boots planted firmly on the ground, his legs spread wide in front of him. He glances at her, dark eyes guarded.

She sits back on her calves, hands resting lightly on her lap. First, she studies him, the angles of his face, his dark hair, still wet from the rain, a mass of damp curls.

His eyes are so expressive, bright in spite of their blackness, flickering with everything he feels— uncertainty, sadness, longing.

She scoots between his legs. He sits up, straightening, his eyebrows drawing together. Rey just stares evenly.

Finally, she lifts a hand, stroking back tufts of hair sticking to his forehead. She lets it drift down to his face, her thumb stroking his cheek.

Then she leans forward, her lips connecting softly with his. They linger, long and slow, as her hand travels back, fingers weaving through his dark curls. She pulls away, only an inch, just enough to look at him.

He's absolutely baffled, eyes wide, trying to read her. But they soon grow soft, the realization registering, what she means.

She tilts her head, bringing her lips to his once more, for one kiss, two kisses, three. He leans in, lifting his hands to frame her face, caressing her cheek.

In the next instant, she crawls on top of him, straddling him, taking him hungrily, running her fingers through his hair, breathless, barely stopping for oxygen.

He doesn't skip a beat, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her in close. He slides a hand down her body, traveling over her backside and gripping the flesh just under it.

They lose themselves in the passion, the embrace, their lips soft and wet, connecting in a stream of kisses, their bodies pressed against one another, hearts racing.

He breathes heavily, amorous, throbbing, his blood coursing through his veins.

But suddenly, he pulls back, panting, his eyes burning with desire but also hesitation, like he just realized something.

"What's wrong?" She tilts her head. They're still close, his face only a couple of inches from hers, a hand still gripping her thigh.

"Have you—" He has trouble catching his breath. "Have you ever noticed how the bond seems to end just when we're most…" He pauses, glancing up. "Intimate?" His eyes search hers. It takes her a moment before she understands what he means.

She leans back, her palms sliding to his chest, her gaze slanting to the side. After a few seconds, she shakes her head.

"I think the bond ends when it accomplishes its purpose." She looks back at him. "You're the one who says this is its purpose. So maybe…" She purses her lips. "Maybe as long as we're doing what it wants, what its intended for…?" She raises an eyebrow.

He tilts his head back, considering this. Then he narrows his eyes.

"Let's find out."

He instantly lunges forward, flipping her onto the ground, pinning her arms above her head, covering her with kisses, first her lips, then her jaw, then her neck.

"This…" His lips travel down. "Is a very…" He barely finds the time to speak between kisses. "Very important experiment." Rey stifles a giggle.

"Is that right?" She lifts her head, smiling at him.

"Yes." He captures her lips again, still pinning her wrists. "We have to explore the bond, test its limits." His hands slide down her arms. "It would be remiss of us not to."

"Well then." She wraps her legs around him. "I would hate to be remiss." Suddenly, he pulls back.

"Atta girl." He winks at her.

She barely rolls her eyes before he takes her once more, opening his mouth into hers. She grips dark locks of his hair, pulling him in as his hand travels along the curve of her body, stopping at her waist.

He slips an arm under her back, lifting her from the ground, her arms and legs wrapped around him, their lips locked in passion.

They pant and grasp and moan, consuming one another, giving themselves over to the heat, the connection, the sweet release of pent-up desire, the love and the lust colliding, each magnifying the other as everything they've been feeling explodes into physical expression. Their hands, their lips, their tongues all communicate, tell the stories of a thousand sleepless nights, the scenarios they've played in their minds as they've lied awake, dreaming about exactly this.

Rey's heart skips a beat when she feels a hand slip under her shirt, sliding along the soft skin of her back. At first, he lingers, gripping her warm flesh. Then, he travels upwards, taking the fabric with him, gradually exposing her stomach, her ribs, her—

"Wait!"

She gasps for breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

He immediately stops, his hand sliding down her back as he lays her gently on the ground.

She sits up, panting, backing away a few inches. She looks down and not at him, trembling, struggling to catch her breath.

"I'm sorry." She shakes her head briskly. "I'm sorry. I- I just—"

"It's ok."

She glances up, met by dark eyes fixed on hers. He kneels before her, still burning with desire but tempered by concern. And understanding.

They stare at one another silently, their breath slowing as the heat dies down, ardor transforming into something else, something more serene but just as powerful, a steady glow inside them.

He reaches out, his hand seeking the soft skin of her cheek.

Suddenly, she gasps, eyes widening, sensing it before it happens.

He disappears before his fingers brush her skin, gone in an instant like so many times before.

She blows out a heavy exhale, her shoulders dropping as she stares blankly at the space where he used to be. After a moment, she lies back, descending slowly to the ground. She shifts onto her side, facing the cave opening, drawing her knees into her chest.

She stays like this for several minutes, her breath evening into a smooth, steady stream, her muscles relaxing, her heart returning to its regular rhythm. She gazes out of the cave, the world still shimmering, her mind strangely calm in spite of everything that just happened.

She lies like this for who knows how long. She doesn't really sense the time passing.

The day's events replay in her mind.

The scouting. The ravine. The shadow moss. The assault of sight and sound. Him. Taking care of her. Comforting her. Helping her make it through.

Everything they talked about. Everything she discovered. Letting go, kissing him, embracing him, every little expression of pleasure and love.

Stopping him. His dark eyes, soft and understanding. The bond taking him away.

She sees it all in her mind. Once. Twice. Three times.

She doesn't analyze it. She just observes, remembering the experiences, the emotions.

And all the while she feels at peace, confident that everything played out exactly the way it was supposed to.

Finally, she shifts, uncurling her legs from her chest and pushing into the earth with a palm. She rises slowly, purposefully, looking up and around, taking in the details of the cave.

Then she steps towards the opening, walking steadily, dipping down to exit into the forest, wet and gleaming.

She observes the mountainside, aware that she's not quite sure where she is, that it will take her a while to find her way, that her team is likely concerned, wondering about her.

But she's not worried about these things.

It's ok. It's all ok.

She's right where she needs to be, doing exactly what she needs to do.

She takes a deep breath and sighs it out. Then she walks into the forest, disappearing into a canopy of green.

NOTE: The next update will be December 8th. Thank you for your patience!